The Martial Way Leads to the Divine: My Power Grows by a Year Every Day

Lin Chen transmigrates into the chaotic world of Great Yu and awakens the destiny of [Martial Arts Sage], gaining one year of cultivation every day.

I’m so much stronger today than I was yesterday, and tomorrow I’ll be so much stronger than I am today.

The Black Lotus Saintess sweeps at him with her long sleeves. Lin Chen leans aside and lightly taps her wrist with a fingertip. She feels his energy surge into her meridians like a mighty river, leaving them sluggish. Her sleeve shreds into scraps, and she stares at him in shock.

Just three months ago, this kid was fleeing for his life from demonic soldiers.

Half a year later, at the Azure Dragon King’s victory banquet, Lin Chen is invited to the head table despite his commoner status, all because he slew the demonic cult leader who had besieged the city with a single strike. The Azure Dragon King raises his cup to recruit him, but Lin Chen merely says, “I got lucky.”

When the purple-robed Imperial Preceptor asks to spar, Lin Chen flicks the rim of his cup. A blast of energy shatters the pillar behind the man. His voice is calm: “This junior wouldn’t dare.”

His tone is so casual, as if he had merely brushed away a speck of dust.

The Imperial Preceptor turns deathly pale, and the wine cup slips from his hand.

He can feel that if Lin Chen wanted to take his life, it would be child’s play.

Many years later, atop the imperial city.

The founding emperor, who built a dynasty that has stood for a hundred years, radiates the concentrated aura of a dragon, his might pressing down on the entire city. He asks, “Who are you?”

Lin Chen, dressed in white as pure as snow, is as still as a deep, ancient well. “Just a passerby.”

Before the emperor can finish speaking, Lin Chen throws a punch.

There is no earth-shaking boom, only an invisible wave of force spreading outward.

The dragon aura around the emperor melts like snow, vanishing inch by inch beneath that single punch until it crumbles into dust.

Lin Chen looks at the empty throne and scoffs.

“You can’t even withstand a punch backed by thirty thousand years of my cultivation? What are you doing on that throne?”